


Running Up That Building

by feverbeats



Category: DCU, Smallville
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 08:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4870246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feverbeats/pseuds/feverbeats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex knows when he's being lied to. He's always being lied to. He hopes Clark and Bruce both choke on their smug silence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running Up That Building

**Author's Note:**

> We all have to tell this story a million times, right? Mix of all canons, of course. Title from "Running Up That Hill" by Kate Bush.

The trip to Gotham is the beginning of the end.

They take a plane, even though Lex still hates flying. He's got nothing to prove, at least not to anyone who can see him, but he still feels an odd sense of pride when, shaking, he steps onto the tarmac outside Gotham. Clark is walking serenely beside him, seemingly unaware of what Lex has gone through. Gotham isn't a change of pace so far.

Things between them are--Not bad, because Lex would be panicking if they were, but not _right_. Ever since Belle Reve, there's been a hidden sense of horror at the back of Lex's mind, despite the fact that he and Clark are closer than ever. Maybe it's just him. Maybe it's the room full of clues he can't piece together. Nothing leads to Clark, everything leads to Clark. They hold hands as they wait for their luggage.

Clark doesn't know how much Lex loves him. If he did, he'd end it then and there. He probably suspects, of course, that it might be more than he loves Lex. Clark is, after all, sixteen, and he has a lot going on in his life. Lex has spent all of his life honing his skills at single-minded obsession, and it shows.

The nicest thing anyone has ever done for Lex is save his life. The cruelest thing anyone's ever done is lie about it. He's left with this tumorous, nagging feeling that he owes Clark more than he even knows, and because of that, he can't let it go. He can't let Clark go.

But he's backed himself into a corner. If he's wrong about Clark, then the boy is just a boy and everything is a letdown. But if he's right--If he's right, then Clark has been lying to him for years, and Lex is sick with boredom at being lied to.

The tragedy of it is, Lex would be thrilled to have known the truth. In the beginning, that is.

The trick is finding the exact perfect moment in time where there is nothing wrong in their relationship. Too early, and they are both lying to each other. Too late, and they're too honest. Lex is, anyway, and too honest means violence.

Is there a time before Lex is too paranoid to ever really love someone?

Do you want to kill him or marry him, Lex?

Both, it's always both. Even when Clark is sixteen and Lex doesn't know _why_ he hates him as much as he loves him.

He isn't sure why he invited Clark to his high school reunion. There's no way it won't look embarrassing that his date is sixteen and from Kansas. Maybe he just doesn't want to be away from Clark for too long.

He sometimes worries about coming on too strong, about scaring the kid off, but by the time this thought occurs to him, he can't stop. He sometimes feels as though he's playing chicken, doing crazier and bigger things until something snaps. It hasn't yet.  
Buying him things is safe at first and safe later, but in between, he gives Clark genuine feeling. In return, he gets very little. Sometimes he gets smiles, real at least ten percent of the time (Lex has spreadsheets), and sometimes he gets “I love you,” but he still mostly gets a wall.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay in a hotel?" Clark asks anxiously, in the taxi. That's not like him. Clark's people are exactly the kind who support staying with friends when traveling. Lex can't decide what makes this different--he settles on the fact that it's Gotham. Clark's parents have told him enough horror stories.

"I'd rather catch up with Bruce," Lex says, a little dishonestly. It's more of a test drive than anything else. He isn't sure how much Bruce might have changed in five years.

Maybe if Lex didn't treat everything like a science experiment.

Bruce, it turns out, may be an experiment of a different sort. He greets them with a smile and a cheerful, "Lex, hi!"

Lex stares. Five years isn't a very long time.

Five years is forever.

A least Clark seems relieved. "He doesn't act rich," he tells Lex when Bruce goes to take a call.

"He acts like someone removed his brain," Lex says.

Bruce isn't the sullen, fearless, kind boy Lex remembers. He laughs, but not at anything Lex finds funny. He mentions about six different girls he's been out with in the past week. He makes such insufferable small talk that Lex almost wonders if he _does_ have brain damage.

When Bruce comes back, he takes Lex outside to show off his car. It's a Porsche, bright red, with everything but vanity plates.

"Bruce, _seriously_ ," Lex says. "What the hell happened to you?"

Bruce frowns slightly. "I'm happy, Lex. That's all."

Lex hates being lied to.

The reunion itself is painful. The high point is when Tommy Elliot meets Lex's eyes with an expression of complete disgust during Bruce's stories of wine, women, and song. Ordinarily, Lex and Tommy have a longstanding mutual agreement to loathe each other.

The low point is when Tommy, five minutes later, asks when Lex started robbing the cradle. Astute.

Lex has more scotch than he should, and talks to people who used to bully him, telling them about financial success and Greco-Roman history.

Fifteen minutes later, he turns around and realize Clark is gone.

Lex feels a slow, throbbing panic. Not because he's worried, but because he feels as if he's in a nightmare he's had a thousand times. He's somewhere, and then Clark is gone. He won't ever find out where, or he'll find out a cheap lie. It's almost hilarious. He laughs, and he realizes everyone's staring. But he stops laughing when he realizes Bruce is missing, too.

Lex always feels half a step away from madness. Tonight, he feels a little closer.

"Tommy," he says, "where's Bruce?" It comes out frustrated.

Tommy looks how Lex feels, only in better control of himself. "He was just here. Do you hear sirens?"

"I hope he wrecked that fucking car," Lex says.

Whatever it was, Lex doesn't find out. The sirens don't come closer, and in about twenty minutes, Clark and Bruce both show up again. Together. Something in their body language has changed, and Lex can feel himself going cold with rage and shock. Impossible. Well, improbable, anyway.

"Where were you?" he asks Clark.

Clark plasters that huge _lying_ smile on his face and says, "Oh, Bruce was showing me his car."

Lex almost books them into a hotel after that, but Bruce is oddly forceful about Lex staying with him. It's almost like the old Bruce. Clark is in the room next to Lex, and Lex doesn't think either of them will sneak in to see the other. 

He lies in bed alone, unable to sleep. He can count the number of times he and Clark have actually had a night together in the same bed on one hand.

Bruce must be quite the party boy, because Lex is absolutely certain he's out the rest of the night.

For the first time in his life, Lex misses being in high school. Bruce was something he could spin in the palm of his hand then, like a dangerous dog that answered only to him. Either Lex has changed or Bruce has, because now Lex feels like nothing but an afterthought in Bruce's suddenly expansive life. He doesn't think he could even sleep with Bruce now, leaving aside the issue of Clark.

Leaving aside Clark and Bruce.

Lex isn't really worried--should he be? Neither Clark nor Bruce would make the first move, even if--And they're not. They're not interested. But something is happening.

But it's fine. If Clark is going to hurt Lex, Lex will hurt him first. It's not as if he doesn't do that on a regular basis when he's trying to be _nice_.

Lex can't help his senor of humor, or his sense of revenge, or whatever it is. He thinks it’s funny to take a swipe at Clark with a sword or acceptable to buy him diamond cufflinks. He doesn't know how to just _talk_ about things. If he and Clark could have been friends first, maybe this wouldn't be happening, but that was never on the table.

They're slated to stay in Gotham a week, and it only takes another two days for Lex to feel like he's going crazy. Clark is never in his room when Lex going to check at night. He keeps walking in on Clark and Bruce when they're right in the middle of--something. He thinks they're fighting, which makes no sense, but once he heard raised voices.

All weekend, Lex keeps losing track of them. They go out to dinner and Clark follows Bruce to the bathroom. They go to an art museum and Lex finds himself alone. On and on and on.

He's not stupid. He knows Gotham has a _crime_ situation going on. The museum was even robbed while they were there. But that's not excuse for leaving him alone.

Meanwhile, Lex has a Bruce situation going on.

He would have thought there was no room in his head or heart for anything but Clark, but as usual, he doesn't know himself nearly as well as he thinks he does. The way he felt about Bruce in high school isn't comparable to how he feels about Clark now, but at the time it felt like the most important connection of his life. If only.

By the fourth night, Lex really feels like he's losing his mind, his least favorite feeling. When Clark is already asleep (supposedly), Lex corners Bruce in the kitchen.

"So how long have you been fucking my boyfriend?" he asks casually.

Bruce, leaning against the counter, raises his eyebrows. "Lex, please. Where is this coming from?"

Lex wants to kill him.

"How long have _you_ been fucking your boyfriend?" Bruce asks, not even stumbling over the curse. "He's how old?"

"Shut up," Lex says, voice rising. "You sanctimonious _ass_. I know you've been going places together. Tell me where."

God, Bruce is handsome when he's annoyed. "It isn't like that. I have to go, Lex."

He breezes past, and his shoulder doesn't even graze Lex's. Lex thinks he'll have a chance to repair all this later.

But the next day, they go to Arkham Asylum. Bruce claims he's doing a walkthrough before he makes some kind of charitable contribution, but Lex knows when he's being lied to. He's always being lied to. He hopes Clark and Bruce both choke on their smug silence.

The whole time they're inside, the two of them keep exchanging glances when they think Lex isn't looking.

Lex is used to things happening with Clark that are just outside his range of vision. From the corner of his eye he can almost see Clark's real life happening. Something like that is going on now, but Bruce is doing it, too. He used to be able to see Bruce, almost. As much as anyone could. Now he's trapped in a room with two liars. He wants to scream.

Lex is (mostly) past being insecure, but Bruce will bring it out in anybody. Lex can do the math. Bruce's eyes match Clark's. They look like the cover of a magazine. Lex isn't anybody's magazine cover.

Arkham Asylum makes Lex nervous. He knows, rationally, that people like him don't end up in places like this. He has money, and power. He'll at least be institutionalized somewhere _clean_. But it makes the back of his neck itch all the same, knowing that it _could_ be him.

"Lex?" Clark says. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, Clark," Lex says, and like everything else out of his mouth, it sounds insincere.

So how does it end? There are a lot of things that could happen. Lex could truly be stupid enough to miss the truth embedded within the lies, every single time. Or he could find out the truth by accident, and spend the next three years stewing about it and pretending not to know. But no. The trip to Arkham turns out to be a mistake for more people than Lex.

"Hey, baldy!"

Clark and Bruce have gone on ahead, leaving Lex to wander down the low-lit hallway, thinking about having a panic attack. He doesn't do that on a regular basis, but he doesn't _not_ do it.

Lex turns. He's seen this one, this freak who makes it onto more magazine covers than Bruce does. Gotham's newest menace, but so colorful. What is that like, Lex wonders. What does it feel like from inside a life like that?

"Joker," he says.

"And you're Lex Luthor." The Joker's voice goes high and then low, gloating, growling. "Never thought I'd see _you_ here. Well. Not outside the bars!"

It's a lucky hit, Lex tells himself. Or else the Joker reads the papers just like everyone else. He starts to walk away.

"But don't you want to know my secret?" the Joker calls out.

Lex looks on ahead. Clark and Bruce are long gone. "You don't have any secrets," he says. It's probably going to be a water balloon in the face or something.

"About your _man_ ," the Joker says.

That genuinely stops Lex. He backtracks, stands in front of the Joker's cell. The man is bleeding from one wrist, he notices. Lex should probably call someone about that.

"Come closer," says the Joker.

"You must think I'm a fucking idiot," says Lex.

The Joker laughs a long, screeching laugh. "A smarty, huh? A tough guy? So's he."

"Clark?" Lex asks. He should walk away.

The Joker takes a step toward the bars, then, seeing Lex's face, backs off. "So that's how you want to play it? No joy buzzer?" He reveals one, which he got from—where? "No water in the eye? Okay. Just the truth, which is that your man—sorry, _boy_ is not from around here."

Lex waits. There's a faint buzzing in his ears.

"An alien!" the Joker says, throwing his arms wide. "Or maybe a Mutant, but I think that's just Weekly World News crap. He's very strong, though. Stronger than Batman."

"You're wrong," Lex says, not for any real reason except that it would be nice to believe.

"Well how do you think I got in here, Lexy?"

Lex stares at him for a second. "You're insane," he spits. He feels sick. He can't remember why. There are a lot of things he can't remember.

"Pot, kettle," the Joker says.

Oddly enough, Lex doesn't find out about Bruce until much later.

The night, Lex and Clark eat out, minus Bruce. The restaurant is calculated to be nice enough that Clark is uncomfortable. Lex feels twice as crazy as he did in Arkham, but also furiously vindicated. He knew. He knew it all along. He had all the pieces but not the complete picture, but now he knows.

They're not even up the entrees before Lex stops fiddling with his fork, lays it down next to the plate, and says, "Imagine this is the last time I'll ever ask you: Tell me the truth."

Clark, who's been looking like a deer about to flee all through the appetizers, says, "What?"

Lex just looks at him.

" _What?_ " Now Clark's annoyed.

What is Lex doing? He’s not sure what he’s doing.

"I want you to try," Lex says evenly. "Just a little, Clark, because I try with you." All wrong, but he does. Clark hasn't seen what he's being compared to. He should see how Lex treated Bruce. "What have you been doing? This past week, with you and Bruce, what’s been _happening_?"

"What do you mean?" Clark is smiling. Nobody is looking at them yet.

"Fuck you," Lex says, still calm, but meeting Clark's eyes. He won't let him look away.

Clark looks away.

"What do you want from me?" he asks, eyes about to burn holes in the table, sounding half angry and half horrified. Good. At least he's not smiling anymore.

"The world," Lex says, smirking through the pain of honesty.

Clark shakes his head. "Lex, I can't--I don't know what you--"

"Don't," Lex snaps, suddenly furious. His hands are shaking. "Don't _lie_ to me, Clark! Don't you think I know when I'm being lied to? I'm the fucking expert!"

"Lex . . ." Clark is back to wearing that conciliatory smile, the one he only wears when he's being dishonest.

"What are you, Clark?" Lex asks softly. "Just answer me that one question. Let's assume I know the answer isn't the lie you're about to tell."

Clark blinks at him for a second, eyes blue and empty. "I'm a _freak_ ," he spits, but quietly. "I'm not human, Lex. Happy now?"

Lex laughs. Once he starts, he finds it very difficult to stop. When he finally does, Clark is staring at him, somewhere between wounded and worried.

"Lex? It's true."

"Why the hell," Lex says, "do you think I'm laughing? Of course it's true. The meteor rocks. The . . . everything." He runs a hand over his head frantically. He wonders if people are staring _now_.

Clark doesn't say anything.

"Well?" Lex says, arching an eyebrow. At least he still has some control over his facial expression. "Aren't you going to apologize?"

"No."

"Good. Now we're getting somewhere."

Clark glances around him, looking panicked. "I can explain, but not here."

*

And he does. Lex feels sick thinking about it. Nothing about the feeling is relief, just panic mixed with glee. 

"And the meteor rocks?" he asks.

Clark, back in Lex's room at Wayne Manor, frowns. "You probably figured it out, or your dad did. They hurt me."

Clark, who's kept his secrets for years, now seems to have no trouble spilling all of the most dangerous ones. Lex wonders if that's Bruce's doing. It certainly can't be Lex's, or this would have happened years ago.

Clark props himself up against the headboard. "How did you find out?"

There's no decision to make. It's already made. "I finally put the pieces together, when you started going out with Bruce. What are you, his bodyguard now?"

Clark's face goes a little blanker, so there's still a mystery in there. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. My parents—"

"I know," Lex says, because that was never a mystery.

"Can you let this go now?" Clark asks.

Lex does what comes naturally, what he's been trained his whole life to do and do well. "Of course."

Everything is different now, but Lex isn't different. He doesn't know how to be. Maybe when Clark is older, smarter, he'll work out that Lex is a liar. Then things really will change.

*

So what happens then? This isn't an ending, it's an origin story. The _beginning_ of the end, but not the end.

Clark and Lex stay together, but the next six months are difficult and awful. Clark has never really trusted Lex. He's probably right. The Kents and Lex's father make things worse in the same ways the always have. Lex dismantles his study of Clark and starts a new one. He gets caught more than once doing this.

Lana calls him obsessive and he almost laughs himself sick. That's a fairly radical understatement. Bruce calls him four times in three days and then Clark is out of town for a week.

The problem is that Lex doesn't want to be friends. It's love or death and nothing in between. He'll square off with Clark at the end of the universe or fuck him senseless, but he won't sit and watch TV with him. He's more than that. And now, Clark is, too.

Cut to: a year later, Lex is slamming a door. Clark is not going after him.

Cut to: Lex is getting into politics, and everything from his medical history to his obsessions are on display, and he gets elected anyway.

Cut to: Clark and Bruce, in three-piece suits, are kissing at a charity event. Clark and Bruce in a different kind of suit are looking at each other like they want to kiss.

Lex could still be all right, from that point.

But no. You know what happens. Lex in a white suit, finger on the trigger. Missiles. His belief in human potential is too great to tolerate what Clark is. His problem and Bruce's are, in the end, the same. The difference is that Bruce is crazy in different ways.

Lex has always wanted so badly to save the world. He's not going to sit around waiting while someone else does it.

Is he a bad person? Well, do good people date sixteen-year-olds? Do good people lie as much as Lex has lied? Ultimately, does it matter?

(Lex thought he wasn't anybody's magazine cover. He was wrong about that.)

But even before any of that, the night that Clark tells him, Lex dreams green. So maybe it was already too late.


End file.
